The Mind Ravager
by Alpha2099
Summary: College student Damia Derbyshire encounters a strange man with a strange blue box on campus. She soon learns that even stranger things are going on with a new merchandising company in town. Could the two be related, and if so, how?
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: These stories are meant to be treated as an alternate universe interpretation of the series. I wrote this back in 2008, long before Matt Smith was cast as the 11th Doctor. So think of this as an alternate future for the Doctor.

Also, don't forget to send a review and let me know what you think!

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><p><strong>The Mind Ravager<strong>

**CHAPTER ONE**

The sky was grey and cloudy over Bowling Green State University. A strong wind blew through the campus, placing added emphasis on the cold October day. Students moved about in their brown and orange attire in celebration of Homecoming 2008. Everyone was anticipating the football game the next day against Eastern Michigan. Everyone, that is, except Damia Derbyshire. She had never been heavily into sports, and she didn't understand the frenzy surrounding Homecoming. To her, it was just another day filled with work, which she wasn't looking forward to doing.

She left the student union and headed back to her dormitory. She took the back route past the cemetery, where surprisingly few students could be found. As she passed the cemetery, she took a quick glance at the multitude of tombstones inside. The sight always made her think about her own mortality, and it usually made her depressed. A gust of wind blew her long brown hair into her face. She pushed it away and readjusted her glasses as she continued walking. Every few feet she saw bright orange Homecoming posters, all of which had been distributed by the Maxil Deltoni Corporation. They were a new business that had set up shop in Bowling Green specifically to market merchandise to college students. Damia didn't particularly care for their goods. Everything looked cheaply made and would probably wear out quickly. She was perfectly happy with her black trench coat. Of course, for as much as she didn't like what Deltoni sold, she felt like she was the only person who felt that way. She often felt isolated from even her closest friends, mainly because she acted differently from the "social norm." Her feelings were compounded by the fact that she couldn't find a boyfriend, even ones who shared similar interests to her. She sighed. If only she could find someone who could make her feel like she was a part of something greater…

As she approached her dorm, she passed an open field that was home to "The Rock." It was a large rock that was constantly painted by fraternities and organizations for promotional purposes. Currently it was painted purple with a gold 'M' on one side, the official logo for the Maxil Deltoni Corporation. Is there nothing Deltoni doesn't have its hands in? she thought as she sighed. She paused as she looked at the field. There was something new there, something she hadn't seen before. Next to the rock was a tall blue box. Damia initially thought it was a Port-a-John. She approached it to get a better look. She quickly realized her hypothesis was false. This box was a darker shade of blue and made of wood, though there was clearly a door on the front. On the top were the words "Police Public Call Box" and a light at the very top for added effect. Damia had never seen anything like this. She wasn't quite sure what a Police Box was for, or why it was in the middle of a field. As she pondered this, her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of her roommate Kimberly.

"Damia!" Kimberly said in a light breezy tone. "Why are you heading back to the room? We have a meeting to go to!"

Damia brushed back her hair. "I completely forgot," she said. "Do I really have to go with you? There's nothing in it for me."

Kimberly rolled her eyes. "Of course you do, silly! This is a chance for you to meet that special someone you've been looking for. And what better way to do that than to attend the Homecoming Committee meeting?"

"I'm not on the Homecoming Committee," Damia said.

"But I am," said Kimberly. "Trust me, guys will line up to go out with you if they know you're friends with the chairman."

Sure, thought Damia. She sighed in defeat. "Okay, I'll go. But I expect I'll be bored."

"Of course you will, honey," said Kimberly, reapplying her makeup. "Now come on. We don't want to be late." She took Damia's hand and the pair headed for the meeting, leaving the blue box behind.

Damia and Kimberly made their way to the lecture that housed the Homecoming meeting. A few others began pouring in. In an attempt to humor her roommate, Damia looked around the room. None of the men looked like anything special, and she assumed they didn't have the type of personality she was looking for. She glanced back at Kimberly, who was checking her lipstick and making sure every strand of her blonde hair was in place. She sighed. It was easy for Kimberly to find a boyfriend; she usually had a different one for each day of the week. But for someone like Damia, it seemed impossible. She folded her arms and looked to the ceiling, preparing for an hour's worth of boredom.

A tall older man entered the room. He wore a nicely pressed business suit and carried a sheet of paper with him. He approached the podium in the center of the room. "If I could have everyone's attention," he said. He cleared his throat and looked at the paper. "Thank you all for attending this meeting of the Homecoming Committee. We have a guest speaker tonight to say a few words about this year's Homecoming. I believe I speak for the entire university when I say that I am deeply honored to have this person here tonight. Please join me in welcoming Maxil Deltoni, head of the Maxil Deltoni Corporation!"

The small group applauded. Maxil Deltoni emerged from a side door and approached the podium. Damia was unimpressed by his looks. She had never seen his face, but she had expected some relatively young man with well-defined features, maybe something along the lines of Orlando Bloom. Maxil looked more like Howie Mandel. He had the same bald head and goatee, and he wore a purple suit with a gold 'M' in his lapel. Damia rolled her eyes at his shameless self-promotion, then chuckled to herself because she wondered if he would say "Deal…or no deal?" during his speech.

"Thank you, thank you," Maxil said as he motioned to silence the group. "I'm sure you're all eagerly anticipating tomorrow's Homecoming. As owner of the Maxil Deltoni Corporation, I would like to extend my company's best wishes to you." The group applauded. "In fact," Maxil continued, "my company would like to help promote the Homecoming spirit. To do this, we have created a special giveaway item for all the students here at BGSU." He reached under the podium and withdrew a bright orange Panama hat.

"Yuck!" Damia exclaimed.

"Honey, please," said Kimberly. "You need to control those random outbursts."

"No, no, it's perfectly understandable," said Maxil. "Panama hats aren't really the 'cool' thing to wear these days, but we decided that this would attract the largest number of people. Just imagine if the Doyt was filled people wearing these hats."

Damia tried to imagine it. The thought made her sick.

"You'll also notice that the MDC logo is present on the hat," Maxil said. He turned the hat so that the top was visible. The Maxil 'M' was there, big and brown. "The other thing I should point out is the jewel on the front of the hat," he said, turning the hat back on its face. There was an emerald-colored stone surrounded by a copper band. "I know it doesn't really fit with the school theme, but it's a little reminder that this hat came courtesy of the Maxil Deltoni Corporation."

_As if the big brown 'M' on top wasn't enough,_ thought Damia.

"The hats are already being distributed at the student union," Maxil said. "Of course, I encourage all of you to distribute some yourself, so after the meeting, come down here and grab a box."

"I have a question," said Kimberly. "Is the jewel real?"

Maxil chuckled. "Sadly, no. That would be terribly impractical."

Damia closed her eyes and shook her head at her roommate's stupidity. _She really does fit the dumb blonde stereotype,_ she thought.

"I have a question, too," said a young man in the back. "Your company seems to have gone from nothing to instant success overnight. A month ago, no one knew your name. How did you get so good?"

At this remark, the entire committee turned to face the man, including Damia. He looked to be a sophomore, just like she was, and he had short thick sideburns. Damia was first attracted to his blue-framed glasses, then noticed he wore an orange BG hat and a Seattle Seahawks T-shirt. iSeems like he matches the 'typical guy' profile,/i she thought.

Maxil grinned. "I'm glad you asked that, Mister…"

"Doctor," the man said.

Kimberly leaned over to Damia. "That is exactly the kind of guy you don't want to be with," she whispered. "He's bonkers." Damia said nothing.

Maxil chuckled. "Of course," he said. "Well, since you're all part of the committee, I'll let you in on some privileged information. The secret to our success is a special program we call the Mother Brain. When we have a new idea we want to sell, the Mother Brain is able to determine the best possible method of optimizing profit. That's how we've become so successful."

"But you weren't like this a month ago," the man said. "Was the Mother Brain a little rusty, or did you not have it until recently?"

"That is information I cannot divulge," Maxil said. "Some company secrets are there for a reason."

"Indeed. And I suppose you can't tell me what exactly the Mother Brain is?"

"Precisely," said Maxil. He looked at his watch. "And now, if you'll excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I must be going. Don't forget to grab a box of hats before you leave, and make sure to pass them out."

Damia rose from her seat. She noticed the young man had already left. She felt slightly disappointed; she had wanted to try to talk to him. He had a tone of authority that she had never heard from a college student. In fact, most grown men didn't speak like that. She was intrigued, to say the least.

Kimberly saw Damia's forlorn look. "Honey, come on," she said. "You really wouldn't want to be attached to that. He wasn't even that good-looking."

"I'm not so sure," said Damia. "I think it might be best if I kept all my options open."

Kimberly rolled her eyes. "Okay, but you're wasting your time."

Damia and Kimberly began walking back to their dorm in Kreischer Hall. The clouds had cleared up and the sun was shining, warming the campus slightly. Kimberly was reciting her busy social calendar, presumably to Damia, but Damia was lost in her own thoughts. She was still thinking about the young man at the meeting. There was something about him that she couldn't shake, almost like a sense of mystery. As the pair passed by the field, Damia noticed the young man was a few yards ahead of them. He was walking with a somewhat casual, somewhat deliberate pace. Suddenly, he veered to the right and headed for the blue box. To her surprise, he withdrew a key, opened the door, and went inside.

"Did you see that?" Damia said, stopping and pointing.

"See what?" asked Kimberly.

"That guy just went inside that box," said Damia.

"Honey, it's probably just a Port-a-John. There's absolutely nothing glamorous about that."

"But why would someone make a Port-a-John look like a Police Box? What the hell even _is_ a Police Box?" asked Damia.

"Who cares?" said Kimberly. She continued walking towards the dorm.

Damia, however, did not move. There was something about this man and this blue box; she was sure of it. She had never seen either of them before, and while she was willing to chalk it up to coincidence, her subconscious told her to probe further. She approached the box and walked around it. Each side was about three feet wide and six feet high. She paused before making her next observation. If this really was a Port-a-John, then what she was about to do would be very embarrassing. She made sure no one was looking, then she leaned in and placed her ear against the side. Her eyes widened when she heard a low hum coming from inside. It didn't sound like the man inside was making the sound, and even if he were, surely he would have to stop to take a breath, and yet the hum persisted. Damia stepped back. Something strange was going on here. She pounded on the door. "Hey, you in there!" she shouted. "What are you doing?" There was no answer. She pounded again, but still no answer. She decided to try the door. It glided open. Damia looked inside, but could not see the young man. In fact, she saw nothing. It was pitch black. _This is getting stranger and stranger,_ she thought. At this point, there was only one course of action. She swallowed hard and stepped inside, unsure of what she would see.

***END CHAPTER***


	2. Chapter 2

**The Mind Ravager**

**CHAPTER TWO**

Damia entered the blue box very slowly. She was met by a wave of blackness that her eyes could not penetrate. Her head suddenly felt light and she was overcome with dizziness and slight nausea. She closed her eyes and steadied herself. After a few deep breaths, she opened her eyes and gasped at what she saw.

She was standing inside a very large white room. Its size defied the small blue box that should be housing it. Damia quickly stepped outside and scanned the exterior once more. When she was convinced that this was not a product of her imagination, she returned to the room. It was hexagonal in shape, and the walls had circular recessions. A coat rack, currently empty, stood in one corner. The most attractive sight to Damia's eyes was the large console in the center. Like the room itself, it was white and hexagonal. In the middle of the console was a pinkish cylinder encased in glass. Damia peered closer and discovered that the cylinder had the potential to light up. She continued to browse the console and stood in awe at the plethora of buttons, dials, and levers. She couldn't imagine how anyone would be able to remember their functions, seeing as there was no visible labeling. She looked to the wall across from the entrance and saw what she guessed was a viewscreen. _What is this place?_ she asked herself.

At that moment, she noticed a door in the corner to the right of the viewscreen. It was closed, but as Damia found out, it was also not locked. She carefully opened it and stuck her head through. She saw a long hallway that made a sharp left turn. There were two doors on each side of the hall, and the walls bore the same pattern as the main room. _Just how big is this place?_ she wondered. She moved cautiously and tried not to make too much noise. She expected that someone, or something, must be in here, and disturbing it might not be wise. After all, she had decided that this was not something one would find in wide circulation on the planet Earth, but she wanted to gather more information on that subject. As she approached the bend in the hallway, she heard whistling. She stopped and listened closely. It was definitely whistling. _Maybe this really is man-made,_ she thought. She decided to find the source of the whistle. The hunt took her around more bends, and occasionally she would take a peek inside some open doors. The rooms she looked in were seemingly designed for storage and had various items that caught her eye, as many of them looked very strange and fantastical. However, there was no time to stop and look. She had to find where that whistling was coming from.

Her search led her to a door that was partly ajar. The whistling was loudest here, so Damia assumed she had found what she was looking for. She inched closer to the door and opened it further, but did so slowly so that she would make less noise. She slipped her head inside and glanced around. This room was silver and did not have any circular recessions like the hallway. It was fairly large, and Damia saw two rows of mannequins towards the back, all wearing different styles of clothing. She could not see anybody from the doorway, and the whistling had stopped. Uneasiness crept into her body, but her resolve subdued it. She bit her lip and stepped inside the room. From inside she could see the room was somewhat shaped like a "T". The right side of the room had shelves of various items, mostly sports memorabilia. Damia moved closer to investigate. She had never been interested in sports, but she found it interesting that a blue box with dimensions larger inside than outside (which she was beginning to believe was not of Earth origin) would have Earth sports items. As she looked around, her eyes fell on an old-looking American football. It was old-looking not because it had seen heavy use over many years, but rather that it looked different than the traditional football. She reached her hands out to pick it up.

"Don't touch that!" said a voice to her left. Damia jumped in fright and let out a small squeak. She turned to face her speaker. It was not too surprising that the voice came from the young man she had seen enter the box. He was still wearing his Seahawks T-shirt, BG hat, and the run-of-the-mill denim jeans. _He looks human to me,_ she pondered. _None of this is making any sense._

The young man approached her. She withdrew and began to shiver. "Relax," he said, "I'm not going to harm you. It's just that I'm very possessive of my treasures." He pointed to the football. "Bart Starr gave me that ball. He practiced with it before the Super Bowl." A grin appeared on his face. "That was quite a game," he said.

Damia relaxed slightly. _Okay, he doesn't seem crazy,_ she thought. _I don't have to worry about getting raped._

"Of course," the man continued, "that was a long time ago. Must have been…let me see…January 1967, I guess."

_Never mind,_ thought Damia. _He's bonkers._ She cleared her throat. "How could he have given you that ball if it was forty years ago?" she asked.

The young man snapped out of his reminiscence. "What? Oh, I'm sorry. We haven't met yet." He extended a hand. "I'm the Doctor."

Damia took his hand, though she hesitated before doing so. "You said that at the meeting," she said. "You seem a bit young to be a doctor."

"Well, my doctorate is purely honorary," the Doctor said, flashing a smile.

"Okay," said Damia with a sideways glance. "So, let me guess this straight: You're _the_ Doctor."

"Exactly," he replied.

"Um…Doctor Who?" she asked.

"No, no, just 'The Doctor', that's all," he clarified. "I know it's a bit strange, but you'll get used to it."

"Why would I get used to it?" Damia said. "What's to stop me from running out right now and telling the world about this place, whatever it is?"

"You have too many questions," the Doctor said. "Besides, no one would really believe you, and if someone did, I'd be gone long before you brought them back here." He headed back to the mannequins. He motioned for Damia to follow him. "I know you have a lot of questions, and I would be happy to answer them. Before I do that, though, I'd appreciate it if I knew what to call you."

Damia blinked, then realized what he was asking. "Oh, sorry. My name's Damia. Damia Derbyshire."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Damia Derbyshire? Are you kidding me?"

"What's wrong with my name?" Damia said defensively.

The Doctor sighed. "Nothing. It would take too long to explain." He looked at the mannequins and removed a white buttoned-down shirt. There were red question marks on the collar. "I used to wear this back in the day," he said. "I wore it with that." He pointed to a bright-colored patchwork overcoat with yellow pants and green spats. His brow furrowed. "I had a very eclectic taste back then."

Damia was playing with a multicolored scarf on one of the mannequins. It seemed like if it were unrolled, it would stretch to the floor. "When you say 'back then', what do you mean?" she asked.

"Well," the Doctor began, "believe it or not, I'm older than I look. At this point I must be at least 1200 years old."

Damia stared at the Doctor. "Really," she said flatly.

"Yes, really," said the Doctor. "I just happen to look like your average young adult. It's the body I ended up with. Such is the way of the Time Lords."

"Time Lords? Are you making this up?" Damia said, her disbelief clearly visible.

"No, I'm being perfectly serious," said the Doctor. He took a pair of black slacks from another mannequin and went behind a changing screen on the left side of the room. "I'm from the planet Gallifrey. It's in the constellation of Kasterborous. Well, it was, but it's not there anymore."

"What happened to it?" asked Damia.

"It was destroyed in a conflict called the Time War. As far as I know, I'm the only survivor of the Time Lord race, though I'm open to the possibility that there might be others," said the Doctor.

Damia stared at the floor. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," said the Doctor as he emerged from behind the screen with his new apparel. "It was inevitable." His face was slightly more solemn than it had been.

"What about this place?" asked Damia, hoping that a change of subject would ease the awkwardness.

The Doctor opened his arms in a grand fashion. "This," he said, "is the TARDIS. It's an acronym for Time And Relative Dimension In Space. As you've probably noticed, it's bigger on the inside than the outside. That's where the name comes from."

"What about the 'Time' part?" asked Damia.

"I would think that's obvious," said the Doctor as he placed his hat on a nearby rack. "The TARDIS is a time machine. It can go anywhere from the past to the future, relatively speaking."

"That would explain the football," said Damia. "I have to be honest, Doctor; I'm having trouble believing all of this."

"But you're still listening, and that's what counts," said the Doctor. He went back to the left side of the room and tapped on the wall. A section of it swung out to reveal a mirror. A row of suits and coats slid out from the opening that had been created. The Doctor began to thumb through the selections. "I realize this is a lot to take in," he said, "but it's not as crazy as you think." He stepped back from the coat rack and looked at himself in the mirror. He sighed. "You know, most Time Lords are so good with regeneration that they can choose how they're going to look. I never quite got the hang of it, and now look at me. I have a big nose, I'm nearsighted, and to top it all off, I sound like I'm from Pittsburgh. I like the Seventies-style sideburns, though. That part's nice."

Damia put her hands up in a 'time-out' gesture. "Regeneration? What's that?"

"It's the process by which a Time Lord renews his or her body," the Doctor explained. When the one they have is approaching death, they can will themselves to change their physiognomy."

"So Time Lords are immortal?" asked Damia.

"No, no. The process can only be done twelve times," said the Doctor. "After that, they really are dead." He looked back at the coat rack. "Aha! Perfect!" he said as he withdrew a long jade-colored overcoat. He ran his hands along it. "My goodness, that's soft," he said. He put it on and buttoned it. A large smile appeared on his face as he looked in the mirror. "That," he said, "is a work of art."

Damia grinned at the Doctor's narcissism. "So how many times have you regenerated?" she asked.

The Doctor took a comb and started to tidy his hair. "This is my tenth regeneration," he said. "I've been around for quite a while." He checked himself again. "Something's missing on this coat," he said. "I just need a little bit of embellishment." He looked back to the rack and found a suit with a yellow Evening Primrose in its lapel. He placed the flower in his and looked himself over. "Much better," he said.

"You look very handsome," Damia said.

The Doctor turned to face her. "Thank you," he said. "I'm beginning to like you, Damia Derbyshire."

"But you don't know anything about me," she said.

"I certainly do," said the Doctor. "For one thing, you're curious. You wouldn't be in here otherwise. Secondly, you're open-minded. Lastly, you exhibit a great deal of intelligence."

"How did you come to that conclusion?" she asked.

"Because you said I looked handsome," he said, smiling.

Damia laughed. "If you say so," she said. "I guess I'm beginning to like you, too."

"Fantastic!" said the Doctor. The pair shook hands.

"I have to ask one question," said Damia. "If you can travel anywhere in time and space, why would you come to Bowling Green?"

"That is a very good question," said the Doctor. "Come with me and I'll explain." He led her out of the dressing room and took her across the hall. They entered a small room with many shelves of books, almanacs, charts, and maps. The Doctor opened a box in the corner of the room and took out some newspapers. "During my travels, I encountered a strange object in the time-space vortex. The TARDIS couldn't identify it, but whatever it was, it was not meant to be traveling through the vortex. I chased after it, and it led me here. The only trouble is, I haven't been able to locate it. I don't even know what it looks like."

"But you're certain it's here on campus?" Damia asked.

"Not necessarily, but definitely close by," said the Doctor. He held up the newspapers. "I've been here for a month trying to find anything out of the ordinary, and I think I have. Check out the parts I've highlighted." He handed her the stack.

Damia looked them over. "It seems like a lot of people have been going missing lately," she said.

"That's true," said the Doctor, "but look further. What do these missing people have in common?"

Damia looked again. "They all work for the Maxil Deltoni Corporation," she said.

"Exactly," said the Doctor. "Now, that may be a coincidence, but I don't like playing the odds. I need to check them out, but so far I haven't found a way to do so. I attended that meeting in the vain hope Maxil would slip and say something he shouldn't."

"They have an office building just outside of town," Damia said. "Could we fly there in this?" she asked, referring to the TARDIS.

The Doctor shook his head. "There are two reasons why that's a bad idea. For starters, the TARDIS doesn't do short hops very well. It's an old model and has a tendency to act up. Secondly, it travels by means of dematerialization. If someone saw a Police Box appear out of thin air on the front lawn, we'd be in serious trouble."

"Doesn't it have, like, a cloaking device or something?" Damia asked.

The Doctor sighed. "It does, but it hasn't worked in a long time."

"Well," Damia said, "we can always use the campus shuttle. They usually drive into town. We can walk from there."

"Sounds like a plan," the Doctor said. He put his arm around her. "You know, you don't have to help me with this. It could get very dangerous."

"I can handle myself," she said. "Besides, I want to learn more about you. I am curious, after all."

The Doctor smiled. "Very well, then. Let's go." The two made their way out of the TARDIS.

***END CHAPTER***


	3. Chapter 3

**The Mind Ravager**

**CHAPTER THREE**

The Doctor and Damia stepped out of the TARDIS. The Doctor took a look around and drew a deep breath. "You know, being here in Bowling Green is quite invigorating," he said. "Clean Midwest air, no big-city noise pollution, I love it."

"Trust me, you don't have to live here long to get sick of it," Damia said. "It's only the first week of October and it's already getting cold. Once the wind kicks up, it's just terrible."

"Believe me, Damia, some of the planets I've visited are exponentially worse than this," the Doctor said.

Damia waved her hands to silence him. "Shh! Not so loud! You don't want people to hear you say that."

"Why?" asked the Doctor. "They'll just write me off as one of those sci-fi nerds. There's nothing wrong with that." He glanced around. "Where's the nearest shuttle stop?" he asked.

"It's down this way," said Damia, pointing just south of the field in which they were standing. As they started walking, they ran into Kimberly.

"Well done, honey!" Kimberly said. "I knew it wouldn't take long before you found a man." She looked up at the Doctor's face. "Oh, it's you," she said, sighing. She looked back at Damia. "Well, we all have to start somewhere." The Doctor remained silent.

Damia attempted to change the subject. "Where are you off to?" she asked.

"I'm going to pass out some hats up at the Union," Kimberly replied. She reached into her handbag and pulled one out for herself. Putting it on, she looked at Damia and the Doctor. "Oh…my…god!" she said as if in the midst of a revelation. "You two don't have hats! You need to come with me right now and show your spirit."

Finally the Doctor spoke. "Actually, my dear, we have somewhere to be," he said. "Besides, that color doesn't match with my attire."

Kimberly crossed her arms. "What do you have against the Brown-and-Orange?" she said with a challenging tone.

Damia waited for the Doctor to respond. His face expressed contemplation, like he was searching for a witty retort. After a brief moment, he said, "I'm a Steelers fan."

Kimberly's jaw dropped. "Oh…my…god!" she said, throwing her hands up. "You know what? I don't think I should talk to you anymore." With a huff, she continued on her way. "You would do well to shop around, honey!" she shouted over her shoulder to Damia.

The Doctor rubbed his forehead. "For as long as I live, I will never understand the fascination with school spirit."

"Kimberly has a tendency to be outlandish," Damia said apologetically.

"Really? Is that what they call it these days?" said the Doctor.

"Let's just keep moving," said Damia.

The Doctor and Damia arrived at the northern outskirts of downtown Bowling Green. Amidst the gas stations and fast food places, they were able to locate the Maxil Deltoni Corporation office building. It was much larger than the other buildings and stood out along the flat horizon. Damia was pleased that it wasn't a garish purple like the logo. The Doctor was impressed that most of the building was transparent, but wary at the same time. "Anyone who is willing to expose themselves so clearly," he said, "either has nothing to hide, or thinks that no one will see what they're hiding."

"Obviously, you think they have something to hide," said Damia.

"There are too many incongruities with this company," the Doctor said. "I need to get some answers, and I'd prefer to hear it from the horse's mouth and not his secretary."

"Well, shall we go in?" asked Damia.

"Might as well," said the Doctor. He opened one of the large glass doors. "After you, my dear."

The lobby was very atmospheric in nature. The light pouring in through the windows allowed the pale blue marble walls to glimmer like the ocean. Both the Doctor and Damia felt at peace in this serene environment. "Take a seat," the Doctor said to Damia, pointing to one of the reinforced glass chairs. "I'll talk to the receptionist."

Damia moved to the seating area and picked up a copy of _Time_ magazine. Maxil's face was on the cover. The caption read: _Business on the Brain: How Maxil Deltoni's "Mother Brain" Project Is Changing Corporate America_. With a sigh, she opened to the article and began reading.

The Doctor approached the reception desk. "Good afternoon," he said. "I need to get in touch with Mr. Deltoni."

The receptionist looked over her horn-rimmed glasses at the Doctor. "Do you have an appointment, Mister…?"

"Actually, it's 'Doctor,' and no, I do not. This is kind of an unexpected visit," said the Doctor.

The receptionist adjusted her glasses. "Well," she said in a low voice, "if you don't have an appointment, you can't get in touch with Mr. Deltoni." She leaned in close to the Doctor. "Even if you claim to be a doctor," she added, perhaps a bit dramatically in the Doctor's eyes.

The Doctor was at a loss for words. Because of the angle at which the receptionist was leaning, he had a clear line of sight to her cleavage. He tried not to focus on that, but apparently this new body of his not only looked like a young adult, it had the hormones of one. "Okay," he said, clearing his throat. "Unfortunately, I don't have time to schedule an appointment."

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you," the receptionist said.

"Please, Ellen, that's no way to treat our customers," said Maxil, appearing from the nearby stairwell. He moved to greet the Doctor. "I'm glad to see my little presentation on campus attracted someone's attention," he said, shaking the Doctor's hand.

"I've always been interested in business," said the Doctor. "I've been involved with quite a few in my lifetime."

"Indeed," said Maxil as he looked the Doctor over. "Well, you certainly have an elegant taste in attire," he said, "with just a touch of personal flair. I like the collars."

The Doctor beamed. "Thank you," he said. "I'm impressed by any man who can wear a purple suit and keep a straight face."

Maxil chuckled and looked over at Damia. "Ah! You were also at the presentation. Well, I must say I am flattered that I've had such a profound effect on people. Please, please, come with me. I would love to discuss business with such driven individuals."

"Actually, Damia has other plans," said the Doctor. Damia looked puzzled, but the Doctor quickly pulled her aside. "Play along," he whispered to her. "I need you to look around while I'm talking with Maxil. See what you can find and head back to campus. I'll meet you in the TARDIS."

"Okay," said Damia. "That's a good idea."

"Would you expect anything less from me?" said the Doctor. He turned back to Maxil. "Lead the way. I'm all yours."

The pair headed up the spiral staircase. Damia went back to reading her magazine, but only half-heartedly. She began to glance around the lobby to find something interesting. Aside from some contemporary art, there wasn't much to see. There was, however, a dark blue door with the words 'NO ENTRY' in large white letters. It didn't have an electronic lock, just a typical circular doorknob. Damia glanced at Ellen, who was busy talking to a client on the phone. _Time to strike,_ thought Damia. She stood up and moved quickly to the door. Ellen did not notice. Damia turned the knob. The door opened with ease. She silently slipped through the door and closed it. Ellen never glanced in her direction.

Maxil led the Doctor into his office and offered him a chair. The Doctor sank into it. "Ooh, velvet," he said. "I like it."

"It's certainly better than those glass chairs downstairs," said Maxil. He made a sweeping gesture to the room. "I happen to the like the Victorian style as opposed to the current trend. Don't you agree?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I've always been partial to the Edwardian period. Personally, I'd have to do something about the purple walls. I understand that it's your official color, but to stare at it in your office every day is a bit much."

"I like to immerse myself in my company," Maxil said. "It's what separates me from my competition." He handed the Doctor a binder of charts and graphs. "If you look through there, you'll see that our company has been continuously improving in sales for many months. The specifics are a bit technical, but the trend is obvious, even for the amateur eye."

The Doctor flipped through the pages. "To the amateur eye, yes. I, however, happen to be proficient in statistics, and I can tell from reading these charts that your average increase has spiked in the past couple months. Usually you have a small gain, maybe in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. Now you're raking in hundreds of millions." He closed the binder. "You seem to be bucking the trend."

Maxil smiled. "According to an old saying, fortune favors the bold. I like to think it also favors the innovative. I can tell you this, Doctor: If it weren't for the Mother Brain, we would have gone out of business within a year."

"I know I've asked this before," said the Doctor, "but what exactly is the Mother Brain?"

Maxil drew in a breath. "It would be difficult to describe _exactly_ what it is. I'll try to give you a quick summary. It's—"

The Doctor raised a hand to silence him. "I would appreciate it if you didn't give me the 'guided tour' version."

"Of course," said Maxil. "Forgive me, Doctor. I don't mean to insult your intelligence. It's clear to me that you have an astute mind."

"If you say so," said the Doctor.

"The Mother Brain is a sequence of complex algorithms," explained Maxil. "Whenever we try to launch a new product, we run a series of tests with these algorithms involving different variables, such as demographics, the time of year, things like that. The Mother Brain analyzes the results and determines the best possible course of action that will yield the greatest profit. As you can see, it's worked so far."

"It almost seems unfair," the Doctor said.

Maxil chuckled. "Only those who lose would call those who succeed unfair. The fact is, we have technology that can best be described as ahead of its time."

The Doctor pursed his lips. "I'd have to agree," he said. Something didn't feel right. He knew full well that 'ahead of its time' was a frequently-used catchphrase on Earth, but being a Time Lord, it meant much more to him. However, it would not be wise to push too aggressively on the subject. "What other interesting things does this company have?" he asked.

Maxil handed the Doctor another binder. "Well, if you look in here…"

Damia slowly crept down a small flight of stairs that greeted her on the other side of the blue door. She found herself in a small hallway with two paths. Straight ahead was a grey door. To the right, the hallway extended a few feet and ended with a prison cell door. _Why would there be a cell down here?_ she asked herself. She felt as though she would find an answer there, but the grey door was closer. She approached it only to find that it had no knob. To the left of the door was a keypad. Damia reached out to venture a guess (though she knew full well the odds were against her), but stopped when she saw the keypad was connected to a siren on the wall. _Guess that's out of the question,_ she thought. With no other options, she went down the other path. She pushed on the cell door. It creaked on its rusted hinges, but would not open fully. Damia took a few steps back, lowered her shoulder, and ran into it. The door swung open and her momentum caused her to fall on the concrete floor. She picked herself up and checked for bruises. Seeing none, she squinted into the dimly lit room. It didn't seem like there was anything of importance, but she kept looking. Her gaze fell on a large lump in the back corner. In the darkness, it resembled a sack of potatoes. As she moved closer, she realized that it was a person lying face down. She turned the body over and recoiled in horror at the sight before her.

The body was an adult male, presumably in his thirties or forties. He was cold to the touch, indicating he had been dead for some time. Damia did not have to ponder the circumstances of his death, for it was quite apparent. Two large holes, perfectly circular and spaced only a few inches apart, had been made in the center of his forehead. Damia stared at the lifeless corpse, unable to tear herself away. Finally, she gathered enough resolve to sprint out of the room and up the stairs. Upon returning to the lobby, she slammed the blue door behind her, catching Ellen's attention.

"What are you doing over there?" she demanded.

Damia froze. "I…I was looking for the ladies' room. Guess this isn't it," she said. She walked briskly out the main door and headed for the TARDIS to wait for the Doctor.

Ellen watched Damia leave the building. Her eyes narrowed. She picked up her desk telephone. "I need to speak with Mr. Deltoni," she said into the receiver.

"Well, Maxil, I must say I admire your style of conducting business," the Doctor said. "You seem to have everything under control."

"Thank you, Doctor," said Maxil. He folded his hands together. "You know, you seem to have a head for numbers," he said. "I could probably pull a few strings and get you a job in data analysis. You would be very valuable to the company."

The Doctor smiled, mostly because his ego was pleased. "I'm surprised a company doing this well needs to hire anyone right now."

"Well," Maxil said, "our last analyst departed very suddenly. It was a shame to see him go, but these things happen in the world of business." The red phone on Maxil's desk began to ring, interrupting the conversation. "Excuse me a moment," Maxil said, picking up the receiver. "What is it?"

"Sorry if I'm interrupting anything, sir," Ellen said, "but we have a situation."

"What do you mean?" asked Maxil.

"The Doctor's companion was near the basement door. I think she may have gone down and seen something she shouldn't have."

Maxil looked at the Doctor, then focused back on the phone. "Hold on a moment," he said. Placing the receiver on the desk, he opened a drawer and took out one of the Panama hats being distributed on campus. "I'm very sorry, Doctor, but we'll have to continue this discussion at a later time. Until then, please accept one of these hats as my personal gift to you."

The Doctor graciously took the hat. "Thank you, Maxil. I look forward to seeing you again." He rose from his seat. "I know the way out," he said. He left the room and proceeded to meet Damia at the TARDIS.

After the Doctor closed the door behind him, Maxil picked up the receiver. "Can you be sure she saw something?" he asked Ellen.

"No, sir," Ellen said. "I only heard her close the door once. It's possible that she slipped past me going down."

Maxil snorted. "Ellen," he said through clenched teeth, "you have a very simple job down there. All you have to do is answer the phone, get coffee, and make sure no one goes through that door."

"With all due respect, sir," Ellen said, "the door should have been locked."

"Don't argue with me, Ellen!" Maxil shouted. "I could replace you very easily."

"I'm aware of that, sir, but…" she paused as she saw the Doctor exit the building, "I think something should be done about these two."

"Don't concern yourself with that," Maxil said. "The plan is nearly complete. They can't stop us, but I wonder about this Doctor. He is not all he appears to be." He sighed. "Get rid of the body. I'm going down there to have a talk with the Mother Brain."

***END CHAPTER***


	4. Chapter 4

**The Mind Ravager**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Maxil made his way down to the basement. He approached the grey door and entered five digits on the keypad. The door slid open and he stepped inside. He was now in a large silver circular room with computer banks along the wall. In the center of the room was a wide cylindrical curtain with the official Maxil Deltoni logo on it. The lighting in the room revealed a silhouette of a tall object, much like an oversized oil drum, inside the curtain. Maxil stopped a few feet from the curtain and began to speak. "We have a problem," he said.

"Explain," said a raspy voice from the curtain.

"I have reason to believe that two people may have uncovered our operation," Maxil said.

"Are these people within your corporation?" the voice asked.

"No, Mother Brain. They are outsiders, a man and a girl. I believe they are both students at—"

"Maxil!" the Mother Brain hissed. "You are becoming careless. First one of your workers, now a pair of outsiders…"

"It was a small oversight, I admit," said Maxil, "but I really didn't expect a couple of college students to be committing industrial espionage."

"You are a fool, Maxil!" said the Mother Brain. "If my plans did not depend on you, I would have you eliminated for incompetence!"

Maxil hung his head. "I apologize, Mother Brain."

"Do these outsiders have any incriminating evidence against us?" asked the Mother Brain.

"I believe that the girl may have seen the body of the analyst, but that is being removed as we speak," said Maxil.

"Make sure these outsiders are dealt with," said the Mother Brain.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," said Maxil. "The man seems to be quite intelligent for his age. I think there is more to him than his appearance would suggest."

"Go on," said the Mother Brain.

"I think he may be useful to our operation. He has a very rare type of mind."

The Mother Brain was silent for a moment. "Very well, Maxil. Bring him to me. I shall determine if his mind is worthy."

Maxil nodded. "As you wish, Mother Brain."

The Doctor made his way back to the TARDIS and found Damia waiting inside. "Did you find anything useful?" he asked.

"I did," Damia said. "There was a man down there. It looked as though he'd been dead awhile." Her head drooped to the floor and she turned away from the Doctor.

The Doctor picked up on her body language and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay now, Damia. You're safe in here," he said.

Damia's lip began to quiver. "I know," she said, "but when I saw his face…that lifeless expression…" She buried her face in the Doctor's coat and began to sob.

The Doctor said nothing. He stood patiently and waited for Damia to calm down. "I promise, Damia, we'll find out what's going on and we'll put a stop to it."

"Do you think they did that to all the other people who have gone missing?" Damia asked.

The Doctor exhaled deeply. "It's a safe assumption," he said. "I can only hope that we can stop whatever Maxil is doing before someone else dies." Damia nodded in agreement. "Speaking of which," he said, "did anyone see you snooping around?"

"I got down to the basement without being noticed, but the receptionist spotted me coming back up," said Damia.

The Doctor sighed. "That means we're next. It explains why Maxil wanted me to leave."

"Did you gain any information from him?" Damia asked.

"Not really," said the Doctor. "It was just a lot of technical business language. If people are turning up dead, then everything he showed me was just a front. We need to get to the bottom of this quickly."

Damia brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Maybe we should go to the police," she said.

The Doctor removed his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "That won't do any good. By now, the body will have been stashed. We have no evidence that Maxil has done anything wrong." He paused and looked at the ceiling of the console room. "Then again…" He reached into his coat and withdrew the Panama hat. "We might be able to get some information from this."

"It's just a hat," said Damia. "What can we get out of this?"

A smile formed on the Doctor's face. Damia sensed he had an idea that he was just dying to share. "It's a hat with the colors of your school," he said, turning the hat so Damia could see the green jewel on the front, "except for this. Why would that be?"

Damia shrugged. "I don't know."

"Nor do I," said the Doctor. "One can assume that it must have some role to play besides aesthetic value. It doesn't fit the brown-and-orange color scheme, so there must be a reason why Maxil decided to place it on here. Not only that, the jewel is surrounded by copper." He looked at Damia with a twinkle in his eye. "What's so special about copper?"

Damia's brow furrowed in thought. "It's used in wires, isn't it?"

"Exactly," said the Doctor. "Copper is a good conductor of electricity. Not a good thing to have on a hat, though." He placed a hand on the jewel and managed to pry it out of the copper ring. In doing so, he exposed a small electrical circuit in the ring.

"What do you suppose that's for?" asked Damia.

"I really couldn't say," said the Doctor. He turned the hat inside-out to see what was on the other side of the circuit. There were two small holes on the forehead area of the hat. "Hmm…" said the Doctor. "I think we need to talk to Orac."

"Who's Orac?" asked Damia.

"Come with me. I'll introduce you," said the Doctor. The pair headed deeper into the TARDIS.

The Doctor and Damia arrived at a room with a sign labeled 'Doctor's Den.' "Anything special about the name?" asked Damia.

"It's a play on the phrase 'Dragon's Den,'" said the Doctor. "I admit it's not very impressive, but at the time I thought it was funny." They went inside. Damia stopped and looked around in amazement. The room actually looked like a typical den that she could imagine. There was a carpeted floor, the walls were made of wood panels, and there was a couch positioned in front of a television set. The rest of the room was filled with shelves, and on these shelves were rows and rows of video games from every era. The shelf nearest the television had all the corresponding consoles, ranging from an Atari 2600 to a Nintendo Wii.

After taking it all in, Damia cleared her throat. "So…you like video games?" she asked.

The Doctor chuckled. "Who doesn't?" he said. "Don't get too comfortable, though. We're not here to play games." He walked to the back of the room and opened a cupboard. He began to remove some boxes and inspected each one. Damia knelt down beside him as he went through them. "Let's see," he said, "Magnavox Odyssey…that's not it. Playstation 9…" He looked back at Damia. "Pretend you didn't see that," he said. He removed a few more boxes and stuck his head into the cupboard. "Aha! Here it is!" he said. He withdrew a small clear rectangular box and placed it on the tabletop above the cupboard. The box was full of wires and circuits which connected to an orb with lights.

"What's that?" asked Damia.

"This," said the Doctor, "is Orac. He's a portable supercomputer. I obtained him from a laboratory in your future, maybe around the 24th or 25th century."

"When you say 'obtained,' what exactly do you mean?" asked Damia with a smirk.

The Doctor smiled sheepishly. "Well, I suppose you could say I 'liberated' him. He was going to be used by this group called the Federation – and not of the Star Trek variety – but I decided he would be more useful in the TARDIS."

"What does it do?"

The Doctor flipped a switch and Orac emitted a low whir. The lights around the orb began to blink. "Say hi to Orac," he said to Damia.

Damia paused and gave the Doctor a confused look. "Um…hi, Orac," she said. "My name's—"

"Formalities are not needed," said Orac in a nasal-pitched voice. "My functionality is not improved or impaired by their use."

Damia stepped back, startled. The Doctor held his hand up. "It's okay. He's just a little shy," he said.

"Shyness is not a part of my programming," Orac corrected. "I am perfectly efficient without any sort of emotion."

"Maybe so, but without emotion you're just kinda…square," said the Doctor, attempting to suppress laughing at his own joke.

Damia sighed. "I can't believe you just said that," she said. She directed her focus back to Orac. "What exactly can you do?" she asked.

"I can calculate trillions of calculations within a fraction of a second," said Orac. "I can also speak several thousand languages, I am compatible with nearly any form of electronic devices, and I am also designed to anticipate future events."

"I haven't been able to test that last one yet," said the Doctor.

"So," Damia said to Orac, "could you help us with our problem?"

"You will have to be more specific," said Orac.

The Doctor held up the Panama hat. He connected a couple of leads to its circuit and then connected it to Orac. "I need you analyze this and tell me what it's programmed for," he said.

"This device functions as a receiver of electrical signals," Orac replied. "Judging by its design, it can operate a great distance away from the signal's source. A single pulse will trigger a release mechanism on the device."

"That might be the holes," said the Doctor. He turned the hat inside-out, exposing the holes on the underside. "Can you send a pulse to the circuit?" he asked Orac.

"Certainly," said Orac. Instantly, two thin spikes emerged from the holes. The Doctor touched the tips and found them to be very sharp. "The spikes appear to be made of a titanium alloy," Orac noted.

"My goodness," said the Doctor. "That's a bit vicious."

"Why would Maxil put this into a hat?" asked Damia.

"With that kind of force, these spikes are strong enough to embed themselves in your brain," the Doctor explained. "It's a pretty effective killing machine."

"That explains the holes I found on that man's head in the basement," said Damia.

"But what good would that do?" asked the Doctor.

"I cannot provide all the answers," said Orac. "It is not in my programming to speculate on the intent of inefficient beings such as humans. Furthermore—"

The Doctor switched Orac off. The whirring stopped. "He's a pain sometimes," he said. "A necessary pain, but still a pain."

"Given how smart you are, I'm surprised you need him to help you out," Damia said.

"Honestly, I can't keep him," said the Doctor. "I can think of seven people who need him more than I do."

Damia exhaled deeply. "So what do we do now?"

"Well," the Doctor began, "we can either tell everyone on campus to stop wearing the hats, or we can go back to Maxil and tell him to stop whatever he's planning."

"Neither one of those sounds very feasible," Damia said.

"No, they don't," the Doctor said, "but it's all we've got. I say we go back to Maxil."

"Okay," Damia said. "Lead the way. And this time, don't make me go anywhere by myself."

***END CHAPTER***


	5. Chapter 5

**The Mind Ravager**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

The Doctor and Damia exited the TARDIS. It was getting late in the evening, and the setting sun illuminated the sky with a burnt orange glow. The pair looked around and saw that a lot of students were wearing the Panama hats.

"Given what we know about those hats," the Doctor said, "seeing everyone wearing them does not fill me with joy."

"We need to think of a plan," said Damia. "I mean, we can't exactly walk back to Maxil's office and tell him to stop."

"I quite agree," said Maxil. The Doctor and Damia turned and saw him with three large men, presumably bodyguards. Maxil grinned. "Why should you walk back when my men are quite happy to drive you there?" he said.

Damia leaned into the Doctor. "Maybe we should fight them," she whispered in his ear.

"Absolutely not!" said the Doctor, though not in a whisper. "If Maxil came all the way out here to pick us up, the least we can do is be gracious and accept his offer."

"Thank you, Doctor," said Maxil. He motioned to his men, who moved in and grabbed the Doctor and Damia by the arms. "Forgive my men. They can be rough sometimes."

The Doctor wiggled against the guards' grip. "Listen here, Brawny Man," he said, "I'm already coming quietly. You don't have to grope me."

"Come with me," said Maxil. The group headed to his limousine.

Damia looked at the Doctor. "Did you really feel the need to call that man Brawny Man?" she asked.

"I do things like that all the time," said the Doctor. "If you ever hear me use the phrase 'Listen here,' then you know some sort of name is coming after it."

The man holding the Doctor tightened his grip and shook him slightly. "That's enough out of you," he said.

Shortly thereafter, the group was in Maxil's office building. It was now dark outside, and all the building's lights were on. With the glass walls, it made for quite a spectacle from the outside. The Doctor and Damia were still being held by the guards.

"Take them downstairs," said Maxil. "I'll join you shortly."

The guards took the Doctor and Damia to the basement. Damia looked around. "This is where I found the body," she said.

"I have an uneasy feeling we're the next ones," said the Doctor.

The guards led the pair past the intersection and approached the grey door. One entered five digits on the keypad. When the door opened, the guards led the pair inside and released their grip. The Doctor took a look around the room. "Now this is more like it," he said. "Silver room, computers everywhere, big purple curtain in the middle of it all…I like it."

"Silence!" said a shrill voice.

"What was that?" asked Damia.

"Sounds like it's coming from the curtain," said the Doctor. He moved to inspect it.

"Do not approach the curtain," said the voice.

"Why not?" asked the Doctor. "I hear a voice coming from behind a curtain and I want to know whose voice it is. Now I realize it could be something out of _The Wizard of Oz_, but something tells me it isn't, so let's find out."

As he finished his sentence, he yanked the curtain down, causing it to tear at the top and fall, exposing the cylindrical shape inside it. Damia gasped at what she saw. The Doctor took a step back in surprise. The cylinder was, in fact, a tank full of deep blue liquid, and inside the liquid was a large human brain, about the size of a small dog. Wires ran from the brain to the top of the tank, where a small container of clear liquid was placed.

"Well, well," the Doctor said. "I presume that this is the great Mother Brain that Maxil owes his success to."

"Indeed," said the Mother Brain. "And I presume you are the man with the rare mind that Maxil has told me about."

The Doctor smiled. "Well, I do what I can," he said.

"I would very much like to speak with you," said the Mother Brain, "but I wish to do so privately."

The guards understood the message and took hold of Damia. "Hey! Let go of me!" she cried.

"Actually," said the Doctor, "I would appreciate it if Damia were to stay with me. She won't cause any trouble, I promise. You can throw the guards out if you want, though. I have no complaints about that."

The Mother Brain chuckled. "You are a humorous individual. Very well, the girl may stay." The guards released Damia and left the pair alone with the Mother Brain. Damia looked around and saw there were no chairs in the room, so she sat cross-legged on the floor and rested her chin in her hands. The Doctor remained standing.

"The first order of business," said the Mother Brain, "is your name."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "I am the Doctor." He extended an arm to Damia. "This is my friend Damia."

"The word 'Doctor' is a title," said the Mother Brain. "It is not a name. Tell me your name."

"That is my name," said the Doctor. "At least, it's enough of a name for you. I'm willing to bet your name isn't really Mother Brain."

The Mother Brain was silent for a moment. "You are correct," it said at last. "In fact, Doctor, it may interest you to know that I am not from this world."

The Doctor feigned surprise by putting a hand to his mouth. "Oh my word! Damia, can you believe this? The Mother Brain isn't from around these parts!"

"Shocking," said Damia.

"But wait a minute," said the Doctor. "This is a human brain, isn't it?"

"I am a synthetically manufactured brain meant to resemble that of a human," said the Mother Brain. "I was created on a science outpost far from this galaxy, though the outpost was colonized by people from Earth."

"Sounds reasonable," said the Doctor. "Does that sound good to you, Damia?"

Damia nodded in agreement.

"Now let me guess," said the Doctor. "You already said you're not from this world, but am I right in thinking you're also from a different time?"

"You are very clever, Doctor," said the Mother Brain. "I was created in the Earth year 3714 under the codename 'Mother.' When I was being transported from the outpost to Earth, the ship's quantum reactor suffered a meltdown. The energy leaked out and caused a massive explosion. No one survived."

"No one, that is, except you," said the Doctor.

"Correct," said the Mother Brain. "Because of the release of quantum energy, I was transported through time. I arrived on Earth in the year 2008, and I was found by Maxil."

"And because of your knowledge of the future, he chose to use you as a means of making profit for his business," said the Doctor.

"Correct again," said the Mother Brain.

"I have a question," Damia said, raising her hand. "How are you able to talk?"

"My container has a built-in voice synthesis module," answered the Mother Brain.

"Now I have a question," said the Doctor. "What's with the computers?"

"They are needed as a life support system," explained the Mother Brain. The quantum energy contaminated the fluid that keeps me functioning. You may have noticed the liquid in my container is blue as a result. Unfortunately, there is no way to replace the fluid, as the technology does not yet exist."

"So, effectively, you're stuck," said the Doctor.

"I am developing a method by which I can escape this prison of mine," the Mother Brain said flatly.

"Oh really?" asked the Doctor. "And what would that entail?"

The door opened and Maxil entered the room. Damia stood up as he walked in. He strode in with an air about him, as if he were about to accept an award. "Ah, I see you've already introduced yourself," he said. "Impressive, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, very much so," said the Doctor, turning to face him. "This takes investing in the future to a whole new level."

Maxil chuckled. "I think so, too. With the Mother Brain at my disposal, I have a wealth of knowledge. I already know market trends, developments in technology, even the next great fashion statement."

"I'm sure it's fabulous," said the Doctor, placing emphasis on the final word. Damia chuckled quietly. "But that's long-term stuff, Maxil. What about a quick way to earn big bucks?" He turned back to face the Mother Brain. "Right now, it's early October of 2008. Who's going to win the World Series at the end of the month?"

"The Philadelphia Phillies will defeat the Tampa Bay Rays in five games," said the Mother Brain.

"Who will win the Super Bowl this coming February?"

"The Pittsburgh Steelers will defeat the Arizona Cardinals 27-23."

Damia groaned. "People here aren't going to like that."

Maxil frowned and shook his head. "I'm not interested in small-time bets," he said. "I care about being on top. At the end of the day, I want to be a household name. I want to be more powerful than Donald Trump."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's your ambition, to be bigger than Donald Trump?" He sighed. "Well, I've seen worse megalomaniacs in my time."

Maxil glared at the Doctor's remark. "I regret to inform you that I may be the last one you and your girlfriend see."

"We're not dating," Damia chimed in.

The Doctor looked crestfallen. "You were quick to answer that, weren't you?"

"I'm just making everything clear," Damia answered.

"Anyway," the Doctor said, "I think the Mother Brain likes me. She — I can say 'she,' can't I? — might want to keep me around."

The Mother Brain did not answer right away. After a moment, it said, "Unfortunately, Doctor, I have no use for you. My plan will soon reach fruition, and you are not a part of that plan."

The Doctor frowned and looked at the floor. Maxil smiled at the Mother Brain's response. "I'll see that they are dealt with appropriately," he said.

"If I may ask," said the Doctor, "what exactly _is_ your grand plan?"

"That's none of your business," Maxil snapped.

"Remain calm, Maxil," said the Mother Brain. "It would not hurt to tell the Doctor what we are doing. The information will be of little use, since he will shortly die."

"Well," said the Doctor with a small grin, "at least I can die without any curiosity."

"Quite," said the Mother Brain. "These computers not only serve as life support, but they can send highly concentrated pulses of energy to any designated receiver."

"And when you say receiver, what exactly do you mean?" asked the Doctor.

"It could be literally anything," said the Mother Brain. "A radio, a television, a computer, anything with electronic components."

The Doctor nodded. "That would include the Panama hats that Maxil distributed throughout the Bowling Green campus."

"Indeed," said the Mother Brain. The lobes pulsed rapidly as it spoke. "In a short time, I shall send a pulse to these receivers. They will activate and their copper probes will embed themselves in the students' skulls. From there, my brainwaves will be converted into energy – again with the aid of these computers – and subsequently transferred into each student, where I can live in peace."

The Doctor snorted. "More like 'in pieces.' You'll be fragmenting yourself. There's no way you could function. In fact, doing this would damage the students' minds beyond repair. It's a lose-lose situation."

"There is no alternative," said the Mother Brain. "The plan will succeed simply because it must."

"But it can't!" said the Doctor. "That's like breaking a plate and scattering the pieces everywhere. Without a single, cohesive unit, you're effectively killing yourself."

"Then I presume you have a better solution?" asked the Mother Brain.

The Doctor paused and let out a deep breath. "Not off the top of my head, but…"

"Then the plan shall commence," finished the Mother Brain. "Maxil, prepare the computers to transmit the signal. When you have finished…eliminate these two."

Maxil nodded. "Yes, Mother Brain." He moved to the computer banks and began pressing buttons on each.

Damia gripped the Doctor's shoulder. "Do something, Doctor," she said. The pitch in her voice elevated slightly, revealing her fear. "They're going to kill us. They'll kill the whole campus!"

The Doctor did not reply. Instead, his eyes locked onto the Mother Brain's tank. "Is there nothing I can do to make you change your mind?" he asked.

"Nothing," said the Mother Brain coldly.

The Doctor sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. He reached into his coat pocket. "Damia," he said, "cover your ears." She complied. As she did, the Doctor quickly withdrew his hand and revealed a small silver tube-shaped device with buttons on it. He pressed one of the buttons and a loud shrill screech emitted from the device. The Doctor grimaced as the noise penetrated his ears. Maxil fell to the ground clutching his ears and crying in pain.

The Mother Brain was unfazed. "What is the meaning of this?" it said. "What is that device?"

"It's a sonic screwdriver," said the Doctor, shouting over the screech. "It manipulates sound waves, and it can have deadly results." As he spoke, the computer banks began to spark and burst into flames. Cracks formed in the Mother Brain's tank. Blue liquid began to spill out.

"No! Stop!" cried the Mother Brain. "Stop! I beg you, Doctor! Have mercy. I just want to live."

"So do the students on that campus," said the Doctor. The cracks grew larger and larger until finally the tank shattered. The blue liquid cascaded to the floor. The Mother Brain let out a devilish shriek as it began to shrivel. The guards re-entered the room and slipped on the liquid. They hit the floor clutching their ears just like Maxil. The Doctor turned to Damia, his hand still on the button of the sonic screwdriver. "Now's our chance. Let's get out of here," he said. The pair rushed out of the room.

Back at the TARDIS, the Doctor was checking the instrument panels on the main console. Damia was pacing the room. "Shouldn't we tell the police or something?" she asked.

"Why bother?" said the Doctor. "They wouldn't believe that an alien brain was trying to take over the minds of college students, and Maxil is probably doing his best to stash everything away right this moment."

"But still, people have died because of this," said Damia.

The Doctor looked into Damia's eyes. He could see that she was serious and that it meant a lot to her. "Look," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I am all about preserving life, and I hate to see people killed unnecessarily. I didn't want to kill the Mother Brain either, but there was no choice. Unfortunately, I can't bring justice to everyone all the time. That's why I travel. I want to be there for someone in their time of need. I want to help people in any way I can." He sighed. "That probably doesn't make you feel any better, but that's all I can say."

Damia nodded. "I understand," she said.

"Good," said the Doctor. He and Damia looked into each other's eyes. An awkward silence began to build. The Doctor cleared his throat. "So, I guess you'll be on your way, then," he said.

Damia nodded quickly. "Yes, yes. I should be going." She extended her hand. "It was nice meeting you, Doctor."

The Doctor smiled and shook her hand. "You too, Damia." He went back to looking at the instruments. He was never good at saying good-bye to any of his companions, even ones that he only had one adventure with.

Damia headed for the door, then stopped. She thought about what was waiting for her in life. She wasn't happy with the dull routine of school. She wanted to do something exciting. Until she met the Doctor, she had convinced herself that would never happen. But now, here was this man from another world, a man who traveled through space and time in a machine that was bigger on the inside…

"Actually," said Damia, "would you mind if I came along?"

The Doctor drew a deep breath. He had hoped she wouldn't ask that. Taking on a companion was not something that should be done lightly. He was aware of the risks involved with his travels, but she didn't. He had seen companions die, have their memories erased, and one by one, they all leave him in the end. He didn't like going through those emotions, and he didn't want to see anything happen to Damia. He could tell that she was a bright girl. If she applied herself, she would go places. But then again, having no companion was just as bad. For all the enemies he had seen in his life, the one thing he couldn't conquer was his loneliness. There was a part of him that wanted her to come along, too, even though it was risky. Still, he didn't want to sound too eager…

After exhaling, the Doctor said, "It's dangerous out there, Damia. My life isn't as simple as the one you live here at Bowling Green."

Damia nodded. "I understand that. I just think that there's so much I could see with you that I wouldn't be able to experience otherwise."

"Well, there is some truth in that," said the Doctor. "Still, just because you're with me doesn't mean you're entitled to do anything stupid. That's my job." He grinned.

Damia laughed. "I'll try to remember that."

"If you're willing to accept the risks, then I guess you can come along," said the Doctor with a bright smile.

Damia threw her arms around the Doctor. "Thank you so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squealed.

"Okay, Damia, you're constricting my airways," the Doctor choked out.

"Sorry." Damia released her grip. "So, how do we take off?"

"Like this," said the Doctor. He pressed a few buttons on the console. A loud thud resonated in the room. "We're primed," he said. He reached his right hand to a large red lever and slowly pulled it down. The central column of the console began to rise and fall. A loud wheezing noise emanated in rhythm with the oscillation of the column. Damia listened in amazement.

"We're off and running," said the Doctor.

***END***


End file.
